


Wishing To Forget

by xspike4evax



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 19:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16225496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xspike4evax/pseuds/xspike4evax
Summary: It's the eve of her wedding, and Daphne Greengrass knows she just has to see Harry Potter one last time.





	Wishing To Forget

“You look beautiful.” 

Her sister’s heartfelt words meant nothing to her; they gave her no sense of satisfaction or self worth. She just stood there, motionless, staring at her reflection in the full -length mirror. Beautiful was not a word she would use to describe herself right now. 

Beautiful brought to mind not just something which was nice to look at, but also something deep inside, hidden away; a small glow, a mysterious sparkle that shone in the eyes, giving the face a special radiance. There was a beauty beyond the senses that she, Daphne Greengrass, was lacking. 

She looked the part, Daphne couldn’t deny it. Her clean white dress fit like a glove, highlighting the generous curves of her body, the spaghetti straps of the dress and the long blonde hair swept up into riotous curls on top of her head revealed the delicate slope of her shoulders and the smooth column of her throat. 

Daphne sighed softly as she met her own eyes in the mirror; once alight with happiness, now they were dull and disinterested in the happenings around her, and what might have been the worst part was even her little sister Astoria hadn’t noticed anything was different. Astoria and everyone else treated her as though she were an excited bride on the verge of her happily ever after. 

The reality was somewhat different. Daphne Greengrass was suffering from a broken heart, all feelings resembling love sucked out of her, gone to the one man in the world who had taken her heart and left only the quiet shell for Theodore Nott, the man who would marry her at dusk. 

“I’ll just add the finishing touch and you’ll be perfect,” Astoria said, guiding tiny rose buds of red and white into the curls of her hair with her wand. “I’ll do the tiara myself.” 

Daphne watched her sister place the sparkling array of diamonds and rubies into her hair with hands shaking from excitement. Daphne sighed again at the dreamy smile gracing Astoria’s lips; she was the type of girl who liked a good wedding, who sought after the fairytale dream like a hungry animal. Daphne wished she could forget, that she could be like Astoria and experience the delightful feelings she was supposed to feel. 

“Thank you, Astoria.” 

“Anytime, I’m so excited!” Astoria clapped her hands together lightly. “Oh, where are my gloves? I expect I left them in my room.” 

Almost tripping over her own feet, Astoria rushed out the door. As soon as the click of the latch reached her ears, Daphne opened the top draw of the dressing table and removed a silver photo frame. She stared down at the photograph, a lump forming in her throat and tears welling behind her eyes. 

As her eyes met his through the glass, Daphne’s heart lurched in her chest and she was transported back in time to the day she had seen him again after leaving Hogwarts. 

XX

Daphne stood alone in the large function room decorated with brightly coloured streamers and dancing lanterns. A big “Happy Retirement!” banner hung from the ceiling above the head of some pompous looking man who was droning on and on about what a wonderful time he’d had working at the Ministry and how much he was going to miss everyone. 

She sighed heavily, wishing she could be anywhere else. The only reason she were even there was because her boss was going to be taking over from the pompous man and she had to be present at the party as well. 

Rolling her eyes, Daphne took a sip of champagne, willing the man to hurry up with his speech to allow her to leave the party. 

Suddenly, the hairs of the back of her neck stood up and Daphne had the distinct feeling someone was watching her. Carefully, she turned, her eyes scanning the room; Daphne’s blue eyes widened in surprise as they alighted on the familiar face of Harry Potter. He looked the same, yet he didn’t. Harry Potter looked very different, even though his black hair was as messy as it ever was, he still wore his round glass and still had his lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Now he had a light grazing of stubble on his jaw, his face had lost the look of youth and now had a more mature feel to it. 

He was tall, dark and handsome, a direct contrast to how Daphne had seen him at Hogwarts. Harry now had broad shoulders tapering off to a slim waist and long legs. A smile curved the sensual line of his lips recognition dancing in the emerald green of his eyes. 

She bit her bottom lip, butterflies bursting to life in the pit of her stomach as Harry started to cross the room towards her. Daphne had a vague recollection of him wearing dress robes at the Yule Ball, but tonight he looked completely different in his black fitted suit, his pale green shirt opened at the neck and his tie hanging loosely down his chest. 

“Daphne Greengrass,” Harry greeted quietly when he came up beside her. 

“Harry Potter, I suppose it’s a bit silly to be surprised to see you here,” Daphne replied. 

Harry grinned easily at her. “I have to say I’m the one who’s surprised to see you here.” 

“I’ve just transferred to the Auror department. Mr Piperman is my boss, he’s the one taking over as head of the financial section,” she explained, gesturing to the short, balding man who had now taken over at the podium. 

“Oh right, so you’ll be around from now on then?” Harry asked. 

“Yes, you’ll probably see me at least once a day.” 

“I’ll make a point of it,” Harry told her quietly, his eyes briefly latching on to hers. “Would you like to dance?” 

“Dance?” Daphne blinked, she hadn’t even noticed the music had started up again. She licked her lips slowly and took a sip of her champagne to ease her suddenly dry throat. “Yes, that would be nice.” 

Taking her arm, Harry led her onto the dance floor and into a slow dance. His arms felt warm and strong wrapped around her slender frame and the scent of him was heavy in her nostrils, making her dizzy. Harry kept up a steady stream of small talk as Daphne became lost in another world that began and ended with Harry Potter’s arms. She allowed herself to briefly indulge herself in this little world, closing her eyes and resting her head against Harry’s shoulder where the intoxicating scent of him was even stronger. 

His hand resting on the base of her spine began slow, lazy movements up and down her back, the merest brush of his fingertips against the bare skin of her back sent shivers over her whole body. 

“Harry, Harry, my boy. I’ve been looking all over for you.” 

Daphne was jerked out of her lustful haze at the intruding voice. 

“Oh, Professor Slughorn, I didn’t know you were here,” Harry said, his hand ceasing to move halfway up her back. 

“Yes, yes, I’m here. Delighted to see you again, Harry, come, come, there’s someone here you simply must meet. Well, Ms Parkinson, how nice to see you again,” Slughorn smiled and held out his hand to Daphne. 

“It’s Greengrass,” she corrected, grudgingly releasing Harry’s hand to take Slughorn’s. 

“Of course, Pansy Greengrass, pardon my mistake.” 

Harry’s snigger made her smile and Daphne declined to correct her old Potions professor for a second time. “It’s nice to see you again, Professor.” 

“I do hate to interrupt you when you are in the company of such a lovely lady, Harry, but there is someone here I think you would be interested in meeting,” Slughorn insisted, gesturing behind him into the crowd. 

“I’ll be right with you,” Harry promised. Beaming, Slughorn nodded and turned away, moving a few steps off from them. “I’ll see you on Monday then?” 

“Yes, I’ll be here,” Daphne replied, pushing away her disappointment that Harry would be leaving so soon. 

“I’ll come and find you,” Harry said throatily, raising her hand and brushing his lips over her fingers. “Goodbye, Daphne.” 

“Goodbye, Harry,” she breathed, pressing a hand to her rapidly thumping heart. She couldn’t be feeling this hot, sweeping lust in her stomach over a very fleeting moment of eye contact and one slow dance with Harry Potter! That was ridiculous! 

XX

Daphne blinked back her tears, as it turned out she had been completely ridiculous. She had been the ridiculous one throughout the last six months, somehow convincing herself Harry Potter would leave Ginny Weasley for her. 

How could she still be thinking about him? How could she still be day dreaming about a life with Harry when she was getting married today? Daphne was supposed to be the sensible sister, the one with the cool, calm common sense. Where her voice of reason had gone when Harry Potter was in her life Daphne didn’t know, but it had very definitely deserted her. 

“Harry, you didn’t try to talk me out of this, you really didn’t care,” Daphne spoke quietly to the photograph in her hands. She had believed Harry would say something to her over the announcement of her engagement, she still saw him every day in work, but Harry had said nothing. 

Daphne’s heart ached when she remembered how cold and distant he had been towards her. Harry had hugged her stiffly and given her cheek a detached kiss without a flicker of interest in his eyes. That had hurt the most, the indifference he portrayed towards her, especially when she knew how passionate Harry could be. 

“Found them,” Astoria’s voice broke into Daphne’s thoughts as she came through the door. “Let’s have a little drink shall we? Then I‘ll fix your veil for you.” 

Daphne placed her photograph back in the drawer and turned to her sister. “Actually, Astoria, I’m going to need you to do me a favour.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I’m going to need you to cover for me,” Daphne replied, squaring her shoulders determinedly. 

Astoria paused with her flute of champagne half way to her mouth. “Sorry?” 

“Cover for me.” Daphne repeated, shifting into the middle of the room to give herself more space to apperate. 

Confusion crossing over her face, Astoria stared stupidly at her sister. “I don’t understand, what’s going on?” 

“I’m going to see someone.” 

“Who?” 

“A man.” 

“A…what? Are you insane?” 

“Maybe.” Daphne conceded, automatically smoothing down the front of her dress. “I have to do this, if I don’t “what if”, will haunt me forever.” She checked her reflection one last time, wanting to look perfect for when she saw Harry. 

“Oh, Daphne, I think….” 

Daphne never heard what her sister thought as she apperated half way through the sentence. She arrived with a crack in the square of Godric’s Hollow. The daylight was fading and dusk was rapidly approaching, bringing with it her hour of reckoning. The horizon was tinged pink and the sun had lowered, almost disappearing completely from the sky. Hitching up her flowing skirt, Daphne crossed the square to the large house where Harry Potter now lived, the gravel crunching under her heels. 

Standing at the iron gate, Daphne looked through the bars at the lighted windows, shivering as a shadow passed behind the curtain. Biting her lower lip she took a deep breath and pushed open the gate, wincing slightly at the low creaking sound. 

Mounting the steps, Daphne tried to swallow but her mouth was bone dry, her heart racing behind her breastbone. Lifting her hand to grasp the cold metal of the knocker, she let it bang loudly against the wood of the door. 

She tensed when her ears picked up the sound of movement inside the house. Time seemed to stand still as Daphne waited for Harry to open the door, and even the warmth of the summer night couldn’t warm the chill of her skin as she waited. 

The door opened slowly and Daphne’s breath caught in her throat as she stared up at a surprised Harry Potter. He ruffled his hair absently and blinked as though he thought he was imaging her. 

“Daphne.” 

“Hello, Harry,” Daphne replied quietly. 

Harry shook his head slightly. “What are you doing here?” 

“I…” Daphne wasn’t sure how to reply; she couldn’t just come out with it, could she? It was imperative she think before she spoke. 

“Come in.” Harry stood back from the door. “You’re getting married tonight, aren’t you?” 

Passing Harry to step into the foyer, Daphne’s nostrils picked up the aroma of his cologne and the familiar scent of him. 

“Daphne?” Harry prompted, his eyes sweeping her body in one swift movement. There was something arresting about Daphne Greengrass, something more than the deep blue of her eyes and the full mouth that reminded him of its ability to fulfil all desires hidden within his heart. 

Clearing his throat, Harry walked into the sitting room, ignoring the tilt of her chin and jaw that didn’t give off the impression of fierce determination when paired with the naked fright and longing in her eyes. 

Harry hadn’t been this close to her or even alone with her for months. Since the announcement of Daphne’s engagement, he hadn’t felt it was safe to be around her. Harry had hoped after putting some distance between them he would be able to look at her without any appetite. This didn’t seem to be the case; the old familiar hunger was stirring to life in the pit of his stomach. 

His green eyes drank her in; Daphne Greengrass was indeed the perfect looking bride. No detail had been overlooked, from the tiny roses nestling amongst the vibrant curls of her hair to the dusting of glitter on her lashes and the gleaming diamonds on the shoes peeking from beneath the silk hem of her dress. 

Daphne wrung her fingers together nervously. “Yes. I am supposed to be getting married tonight.” 

“Supposed to be?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Either you are or you’re not.” 

“I don’t know,” she muttered, lowering her eyes from his face, unable to look at him when her heart was pounding so wildly she was sure he could hear it. 

“Daphne, what’s going on?” 

Looking up at him, Daphne took a deep breath. “I was thinking about you and I needed to see you.” 

“Me? You’re getting married today, why are you thinking about me?” Harry shifted on the spot, trying to ignore the desperation seeping from her. 

Tears lined the corners of her eyes as she gazed over at him. Harry was everything she wanted, Daphne remembered clearly the zinging response of her body to his lightest touch, the way she burned inside when he had kissed her. She had believed him when he had told her she was beautiful, Daphne had no reason to doubt him when Harry said she was special; he could make her feel beautiful and special with just one look. 

Even his voice, deep and measured, sent shivery thrills down her spine. Daphne’s memory stirred as she recalled how her reactions to Harry had at first shocked her. It had seemed like a sort of treachery; even after being away from Hogwarts for three years, she had thought of them as Slytherin and Gryffindor. 

Licking her lips, Daphne stood there in turmoil. She had always prided herself on being strong, of being in control of herself and her emotions. Now it scared her that she had no control over her emotions at all. The powerful, frightening drive which swept her away when she was around Harry had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with a deep hidden love she had been powerless to resist and too weak to fight. Daphne had never felt these feelings before and she despised herself for not being able to conquer them. 

“Because you won’t leave me alone,” Daphne said, her eyes shimmering. 

Harry frowned. “I haven’t been near you for months, Daphne.” 

“You think I haven’t noticed that?” she snapped angrily. “It’s like I’ve got the plague or something, you won’t come anywhere near me.” 

“You’re engaged remember? What did you want me to do?” he asked, frowning deeply. 

“You were engaged as well,” Daphne reminded him. “You were engaged to Ginny when you came after me. You came to me, Harry. Remember?” 

“Yes.” Harry replied grudgingly. Turning he moved to the small drinks cabinet in the corner of the room to pour himself a Firewhiskey. 

“Why?” 

Facing her again, his glass halfway to his lips Harry frowned once more. “What?” 

“Why, Harry? Why did you come after me if you were just going to carry on with your life as though I had never been a part of it?” Daphne demanded, her hands coming to rest on her hips as she glared over at him. 

Knocking his drink back in one gulp, Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He didn’t really want to have this discussion; Harry didn’t wish to hurt Daphne in any way. He admitted to himself he hadn’t gone about things the right way to spare her the pain she was clearly still feeling. 

Sighing softly, Harry ran a hand through his hair, wondering why it was always him who managed to mess things up. He should never have made a play for Daphne in the first place, but he had been so surprised at seeing her the night Mr Ringo had retired; the girl he had known at school had now become a glamorous woman. Daphne was at the opposite end of the scale to sporty Ginny and Harry had felt an unmistakable pull towards her, someone different, something new. 

Although Harry wouldn’t describe Daphne as classically beautiful, something about her had stirred a consuming passion inside him. Quite simply, Harry had wanted her, and while he was no expert when it came to women, he never had been, even Harry could tell Daphne had wanted him as well. 

“What do you want me to say? You’re getting married today and you’re here with me when you should be at home with your family. What do you want me to do, Daphne?” Harry almost yelled. He was annoyed now, angry that she had come to his home to disrupt his life even more than she already had. 

“I’m sorry, Daphne. I didn’t mean to shout at you,” he apologised guiltily. “I’m sorry for everything. I should never have let anything happen between us that went beyond the innocent flirting.” 

Daphne flinched, anguish filling her at his reply, preventing her from forming her own words. 

In the strong, uncompromising voice she had heard him use during Auror meetings, Harry said, “I never meant to let our attraction to each other get so out of hand. I want you to know I didn’t lie to you, Daphne, everything I ever said to you I meant; but what we feel for each other is not enough to make a lasting relationship between two people as different as we are.” 

She closed her eyes against the hot stinging tears of pain and humiliation. Daphne knew she had no weapons to use against Harry and his loyalty, and whether she liked it or not, he was choosing to remain loyal to his promise to marry Ginny Weasley. 

With a sinking feeling Daphne knew Harry expected her to keep her promise to marry Theodore Nott and to remain loyal to him. Damn Gryffindor's and their stubborn loyalty! 

If she had to lose him, Daphne was determined Harry would never forget her. “Very well,” she said, holding her head up high. “I’ll go home, but I want something from you first.” 

“If I can give it to you I will.” He pushed away the sadness which swept over him at the thought of Daphne walking out the door to marry someone else. It was an unbelievably selfish thing to feel when he would be marrying Ginny in the very near future. 

Her blue eyes met his darkened gaze. “Kiss me once more, Harry.” 

Harry’s hands clenched at his sides. “You don’t know what you’re asking.” 

Daphne’s head tilted to the side. “Are you refusing me?” 

“No, damn you,” Harry hissed. “You know I can’t refuse you.” 

An agonizing lump caught in her throat and Daphne struggled to breathe. “Sex. That’s all it ever was,” she whispered. 

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, his expression one of angry surprise. “Sex? Do you really believe I would risk my entire future for sex? That I would tear myself to pieces over sex?” 

“I…” Daphne had no time to find the right words; in one lethal move Harry had crossed the room to her. Before she could think, before she could even gasp her surprise, Harry caught her in his arms, his eyes a fierce green, dark with rage, with lust, tinted with what Daphne for an instant thought might have been grief as well. 

Harry’s kiss wiped all coherent thoughts from her mind and left her with only a raging desire that always sprang to life at his touch and consumed every cell in her body. What followed his kiss was violent, urgent, a primitive, intense melding of mouths, of bodies that took them soaring into ecstasy. 

Once her shudders had died away, Harry asked roughly, “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” Daphne managed to croak. Turning her head she lifted her hand to wipe at the tear that leaked from her eye. 

“You are hurt,” Harry said, balancing himself on his elbows. 

“Not in the way you think,” she spoke without thinking and mentally kicked herself. 

Harry flushed slightly. “I’m sorry,” he told her, sincerity visible in this eyes and his voice. 

She sighed softly. “I’d like to believe that you are.” Daphne snivelled, annoyed and appalled that the tears began to fall and there was nothing she could do to stop them. 

“Please don’t cry, Daphne,” Harry pleaded. He hated he was the reason for the tears and there was nothing he could do to change the situation. 

“I’m fine,” she said, feeling sad and desolate when Harry rose to his feet and offered his hand to help her up. Smoothing down her crumpled dress and straightening her tiara which had gone askew, Daphne squared her slim shoulders and took a deep steadying breath. “I’d better go. I don’t have much time to pull myself together before I go marching up the aisle.” 

Harry didn’t reply, he didn’t trust himself to be gracious about his response. Instead he walked Daphne to the door in heavy silence, his fingers intertwined with hers. Outside the sky was a deep, dark blue, spotted with stars, and the moon shone brightly down onto the quiet square of Godric’s Hollow. 

Pausing on the doorstep, Daphne turned to Harry, her hand cool against his still warm skin when she touched his cheek. “Harry, tell me we belong together,” she whispered brokenly. “Lie to me one last time.” 

Resting his forehead against hers, Harry spoke softly. “I do love you, Daphne, I’m sorry I can’t love you enough, and we do belong together, just in a different lifetime.” 

Swinging up onto her tiptoes, Daphne pressed a light kiss to his lips one last time. Her tears still trickling down her cheeks, she turned away from him on a broken sob and hurried down the path, out of the gate into the square. 

Her heart aching unbearably in her chest, Daphne couldn’t stop herself looking over her shoulder at the silhouette of Harry still standing on the doorstep, watching her retreating form. 

“Oh, Merlin,” she muttered, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I wish I could forget.” 

Harry’s eyes followed the figure of the heartbroken bride until she disapparated. Lifting his eyes to the Heavens, he found the brightest star in the sky, the one he was always told by Luna Lovegood was the star to wish upon. “Please,” he pleaded desperately. “I wish to forget her.”


End file.
